


How funny is that I'm in a slow burn novel as a bystander? A Ensign Connor addition.

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Amusing, F/F, Humor, Starship - Freeform, USS Shenzhou, first assignment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10972830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: It's Connor's first day on the USS Shenzhou. And somethings are obvious as day.





	How funny is that I'm in a slow burn novel as a bystander? A Ensign Connor addition.

Connor had one duffle bag with all the essentials that were important to him and he was nervous. Most captains in the fleet were men in their late forties and white. There were at least three women captains captaining ships such as the USS Hood, USS Shenzhou, and USS Mayflower. One of the male captains in star fleet was Captain Lorca, a Andorian male, captain of the USS Republic. The Shenzhou was a earlier model  and had been around for a hundred years. His fingers were fidgeting on the grip to the duffle bag. His insignia had one small shape of a rounded pip indicating his rank as an ensign.  The star fleet insignia on the sides making a pattern that was very small and metallic. He straightened his collar earning a curious side eye from the transport chief.  
  
"You okay kid?" the technician asked.  
  
"Count this being my first assignment, in space, cheery," Connor said.  The technician appeared to be concerned. "I heard the horror stories of ensigns dying in their first year."  
  
"The stories about the security officers?" the technician asked.  
  
Connor shuddered.  
  
"Yes, them," Connor said.  
  
"Relax," the technician said. "you are in command," it did little to ease his growing anxiety regarding his first impression on his first captain and first officer. "And set on the bridge of the USS Shenzhou."  
  
"That I am," Connor said. "It's less screwed up than the Enterprise."  
  
"I have a friend aboard the Shenzhou," the technician said. "a counselor, you know, the kind that helps. Not emphatic," the technician shook their hand. "but they are capable of reassuring new ensigns."  
  
Connor nodded.  
  
"I will consider it," Connor said. "the thought is appreciated." He stepped onto the transporter pad then faced the Andorian in a blue and beige  uniform that had the pips for lieutenant on the star fleet insignia.  
  
"Shenzhou here," the transporter chief from the other end of the comn system installed to the side of the console. "ready when you are."  
  
The technician looked up toward Connor.  
  
"I can fair it," Connor said.  
  
The Andorian slid the bars up on the screen.  
  
"Good luck," the technician said.

A flare of yellow light surrounded the man as the transporter grid mapped him out. He took a deep breath then exhaled. Sure, he had been interning on Starbase  One as a cadet but that involved a shuttle craft taking him there to finish his studies. Being transported off the starbase through  beaming was terrifying. There were still safety hazards but most of them happened on the Enterprise than anywhere else. Most cadets were assigned off world, starbase, and spaceships. His father had served in Star Fleet for twenty-three years and only got into Commander until he took early retirement planet side with his three Andorian partners. He could feel his body being moved from one place to another while technically still on the transporter padd with a few atoms.  
  
Connor was more of a human than Andorian than anything. His six siblings were, in all respect, Andorian/human hybrids. Three were women and the other three were men. He could hear the sound of the transporter ringing in his ears gently as though it were a fixed volume. It was light and melody like that sounded a bit like a child playing around with a small version of a piano with a plastic toy seemingly randomly but not at all random. In a flare of yellow the scenery changed to the transporter room. His vision cleared to see two women standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder. The black woman was slightly taller than the Asian captain whose hair was in a braid. The navigator relaxed.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" Connor asked.

"Permission granted," Georgiou said.

"Welcome to the ship, Ensign," Burnham said, with a nod of her head.

"This is my first officer, Miss Burnham," Georgiou said. Connor stepped off the transporter padd. "if you have any questions, or concerns, you are to direct it to her."

Connor's eyes landed on the short, black woman with purple eyeliner and a short hair style that left bangs to the side.

"Will do, Captain, Commander" Connor said.

"How is your father?" Geogiou asked. "Last  I heard, he was sailing."

"Sailing the oceans of Galav," Connor said.

"He hasn't sent replied to me in a few months," Connor was surprised. "I knew him back in the academy. A long time ago, of course," she waved her hand side ways. "I trust you are faithful as your father to the fleet."

"Yes, sir," Connor said. "he is foresakening technology to be as authentic as possible. I don't know why the others enjoy being unplugged."

"Sounds just like him," Georgiou said, then she turned toward the first officer. "Number One," she turned toward the ensign. "Will give you the official of the ship. And lead to your quarters afterwards." She turned away then made her way toward the doors.

* * *

The next morning, the first  people that Connor saw that morning was the captain and commander side by side walking past his doorway holding hands. Their hands let go once the ensign greeted them much to his confusion.  Not only that but eying at each other from feet across. Lasted longer than five Mississippi's. Burnham had introduced him to the rest of the crewmembers he would be working with often that morning while waiting in line. Including Mr Saru, a very interesting fellow. And it was most probable that the commander and captain were married. But they didn't have ring bands. He slid his replicator card out of the device placing it into his pocket and took out the steaming tray. He looked around for the odd, unusual science officer who stood out like a sore thumb. He almost looked like a skeleton merged into a Silence but given a more human approach in terms of facial features with the ears. His tall, resting figure caught the young man's eye.

"Hey, Lieutenant,  are the first officer and captain married?" Ensign Connor asked, sliding into a seat alongside Saru who held a dripping wet and delicious BLT.

Saru looked over toward the ensign lowering the BLT to the plate.  
  
"Captain Georgiou and Commander Burnham have served together for seven years," Saru said. "Intimate, close, and well knowledgeable of each other. They share a powerful chemistry together."  
  
  "So. . Uh. . . like T'Pol and her husband, only they are not married," Connor said.  
  
 "I have yet to see them engage into their relationship with a ring," Saru said. "It appears . . ." he stopped. "No," he shook his head. "Not even ideal."  
  
 "What?" Connor asked. "What, what, what what what what what what what?"  
  
"Being a star fleet officer comes with risks," Saru said. "Theory goes that they are not ready to cross the border where they have each others last name."

"Plenty of married couples don't take the others last name and keep their maiden names," Connor said.

"Or they don't feel ready to have Klingons use the other as hostages to get what they want," Saru said. "If you asked me. . That is a terrible excuse."  
  
 "Ah," Connor said. "that makes sense."

"The most reasonable answer would be that they are not ready for marriage," Saru said.

"How long they been this way?" Connor asked, curiously.  
  
"They have always been this way since I first stepped aboard from the USS Yorktown as a ensign three years ago," Saru said.  "around the same time I was given a promotion for giving the captain necessary but crucial advice regarding a exploit with the commander."  
  
 "So they have been dating for seven years?" Connor asked, gently stabbing his fork into his egg.  
  
 "It seems so," Saru said. "When I came aboard, Burnham was a lieutenant. A day afterwards she was promoted."  
  
"So how long do I have to expect promotion without the whole dating command lesbians?" Connor asked.  
  
 "Perhaps a year or two depending on your service on the bridge," Saru replied.  
  
"Really helpful there," Connor said. "there is probably a betting pool in place when they do finally get married."  
  
 "I am in the lead," Saru said. Connor looked over toward the alien like individual who seemed to be _almost_ beaming in pride.  
  
"I didn't take you for a gambler," Connor said.  
  
"Not at all," Saru said. "I like to wager the chances of it really happening."  
  
"And?" Connor raised an eyebrow.  
  
 "It should be a reality by the end of this stardate." Saru said. "My species are well known for detecting marriages."  
  
"You said your species are known for detecting radiation last night," Connor said, his jaw slightly gaped.  
  
"I was lying," Saru said. "You should be prepared for white lies like that." Connor frowned as his jaw lifted up.  
  
 "Hey, I am," Connor said. "I could tell if my roommate got high during my academy days."  
  
 "In the field?" Saru asked.  
  
"I don't have much experience in the field," Connor admitted.  
  
"Ensign," Saru said. "everyone has different tell tale signs of lying and none of them is all the same."  
  
 "I suppose you do," Connor said.  
  
"Actually, no," Saru said. "I have been told that people cannot tell if I am lying."  
  
Connor frowned.  
  
"Well, that's a downer," Connor said. He poked at his egg once again slicing off the white part to it then placed it into his mouth with one side of his face cupped by his hand as his train of thought continued. Saru raised the BLT up and prepared to take another bite. "I have a better idea!" the eyebrowless bright blue eyed science officer looked over toward the navigator. "how about we get flowers from the botany lab and leave it in the captain's quarters with a note that it was requested to be sent there by the commander?"  
  
"Tried," Saru said. "she returned it to the lab."  
  
"Oh. . ." Connor said. "poetry?"  
  
"Done by Carl in Engineering and a transporter technician," Saru said. "both of whom attempted to write in the commander's voice. They failed," Connor folded his arms. "as did their yeoman trying to arrange them to go on a date over coffee."  
  
"Over coffee?" Connor asked.  
  
"Yes," Saru said, with a nod.  
  
"Damn," Connor said. "so all the avenues have been gone through."

"Fate has a funny way of making an avenue available," Saru said. "but it has to be taken by them."  
  
Saru finally took a bite out of his BLT. Pieces of tomato fell off the BLT landing onto the tall man's plate. The man had his mouth closed while chewing. Connor sat there, contemplating how best to resolve the married couple but too formal tension. Sexual tension, maybe? No, all it was them being space wives who were not married. They should be married and not have to pegged by 'are you two married' questions by everyone imaginable. Perhaps they were used to it. Perhaps it was a useless idea since they would come together on their own. It was typical for slow burns to take a entire lifetime, let alone twenty years, thirty years, forty years, and so on to finally get together.

* * *

"Tilly?" Connor said, looking over toward the short haired  red head in the helmsmen chair across from him. She had the same color as he had for command. Her light blue eyes looked toward the man.

"What a surprise," the woman smiled. "I didn't expect to see you a stick like you be assigned here."  
  
"I was going for off world assignment," Connor said "And you're a junior .  . . how did you get here?"  
  
"I just started my senior here,"  Tilly said. "this is my assignment from the academy."  
  
"And you are not scared?" Connor asked, raising his dark eyebrows back at her. She started her senior year earlier than all her classmates because she had done so well in the academy. She succeeded in failing the kobyashi maru, successfully went through simulations, and was likely to be an excellent security officer due to her quick to learn combat.  He didn't take her for a person of command but the again there were many things that he had been wrong on about people.  
  
"If a gigantic lizard dares throw a punch at me I will throw a punch back," Tilly said. "space can bite me and get a pain in the butt." and she had not changed a bit since last seeing the woman at the end of May. Fierce as ever and determined on staying alive despite what fears she may have in it. Tilly may look fearless but she wasn't. He had seen two tarantulas make the woman scream and jump onto a stool as the spiders lurked around. Connor liked spiders and spiders like him. Tilly terrified the spiders.  
  
"Where were you last night?" Connor asked.  
  
"Uh, sleeping," Tilly said. Her eyes lightened up. "Ahhh, so that's when you got here."  
  
 "And how did you get here so early?" Connor asked.  
  
"Shuttle craft," Tilly said. "I happened to spend my vacation on a planet nearby the Shenzhou, funny enough."  
  
"Shuttle craft," Connor said. "you are lucky."  
  
"Oh, you finally had your first transport," Tilly said. "chicken."

 "I can proudly say that I am afraid unlike a certain someone I know," Connor said, placing a photographed copy of his four parents along the edge of the console. The photograph was a small portrait made of paper. "it's my super power," he winked back at her. "it's okay to admit that you are scared--"  
  
"Fear?" Tilly cut him off. "Hmmph," the red head added. "I don't know her."

"I know that you know someone named fear in another language," Connor said. Connor looked at  the young woman  in disbelief at first then rolled his eyes turning his attention toward the view screen of the navigational station. _That's typical of Tilly_.

"Oh, the freshman," Tilly said. "I know her. Orion aiming to be a communication's officer."

"I heard she dropped out to be a space pirate," Connor said.

"That is blasphemy," Tilly said. "she wouldn't do that after all the hard work she put in."

"Says the woman who was not her friend," Connor said. "for someone with selective memory, you cheated off her constantly."

"She was easy,"  Tilly said. "she let me." Connor shook his head.

"For someone of a fierce character, I don't know why you forgot," Connor said.  "Oh, right, short term memory loss."

"Unlike a certain someone I know, I actually have it," Tilly said, glaring back at Connor.

Connor stopped talking and focused his attention on the station.

* * *

Nambue walked out of the holodeck taking off his white gloves and black cap that read CSI in bold white text at the front. He was joined by Commander Landry, the security chief, who had her hands locked behind her back with dark curly hair that was in a braid laid on her shoulder. She wore dark eyeliner and was the equivalent of a attractive woman. She had bangs parted to the side resting against her light brown skin. She was shorter compared to the five foot eight man while standing at five foot three. He was in a blue and silver uniform underneath the CSI tech outfit that he was taking off. He unzipped the black jacket sliding it onto his right fore arm to show the star fleet insignia on his chest.  
  
 "Good afternoon, Doctor," Landry said.  
  
 "Good afternoon, Commander," Nambue said. "made your usual  rounds in engineering?"  
  
"Yes," Landry said.  
  
 "And visited the bridge this morning?" Nambue asked. "you know the chances of a emergency there."  
  
"The chances of that are slim," Landry said. "we are not in deep space. And how was your time in the holodeck?"  
  
 Nambue grinned.  
  
 "Delicious, actually," Nambue said. "I tricked Gil Grissom into thinking I was a CSI member just assigned. I am playing cat and mouse with his team."  
  
"Your stress relief is quite sinister," Landry said.  
  
"It is,"  Nambue agreed. "but relaxing." he raised an eyebrow. "You don't actually think I go and kill the holograms?" nothing came from the security chief as Nambue grew a insulted expression on his face. "I have served with you for over three years, Commander. And now it makes sense why I am your first suspect when to comes to a apparent death of a crew member."  
  
"I always have to eliminate people who use the holodeck for a reason like yours," Landry said.  
  
"But that is roleplaying," Nambue said.  
  
"A few times my hunches regarding roleplayers in the holodeck have turned out to be true," Landry said. "for example, I saved your life from a fugitive pretending to be a yeoman who wanted revenge for something you did before being assigned here."

"That was different," Nambue said.  
  
"Regardless, investigating  every suspect is essential," Landry said, then she raised an eyebrow back. "especially when it comes to saving lives."

"Can I not be the first one you ask in every investigation you begin?" Nambue asked. "Preferably." Landry lowered her eyebrow.  
  
"I will be sure to do that," Landry said, with a nod.    
  
They stopped in their tracks hearing the red alert echoing within the corridor and the announcement to attain battle stations. Nambue sped to his sick bay with adrenaline running. The Shenzhou trembled knocking the doctor to his side against the wall almost as though gravity had been lost. He stumbled up hearing the blair of the red alert. He went past several silver themed science officers. There were few times where the ship landed in red alert in his time as its chief medical officer. The lights dimmed in the hall as the light brown man made it to sick bay. He panted coming to a stop alongside the nurses regaining his breath.

Nambue looked up toward the nurses who were preparing for the possibility of injured flooding in. A nurse fell to the ground abruptly knocking her elbow against a flat, rough surface to a support beam. The Shenzhou grumbled as the doctor kept himself still by a crack in the station. It had to be a space pirate attacking to replace the old, falling apart ship they had  (and to replenish supplies) which was in desperate need to be dropped off to the junkyard as either history or to be destroyed. The ship became still as dust. Nambue darted over toward the woman. He helped the nurse up placing her onto the biobed and noticed the woman's pant leg was torn and she had a fresh, brightly bleeding scab on her knee. He strapped the nurse onto the biobed. The ship tilted sideways as the sound of equipment tipping over cladded in sick bay with a loud bang against the surface of the floor.

* * *

Connor's eyes slowly opened to the scenery around him.  
  
 "Good morning, Ensign," Nambue greeted the ensign with a smile briefly as a blurr. The ensign's eyes blinked as his vision became clear.

Connor leaned up with a headache.  
  
"Ow," Connor said, feeling a pain from the side of his head.  "my head."  
  
 "Just a headache," Nambue said. "that hit from on the console was entirely unexpected. . . Hell, the burns your arms had were extensive. Star Fleet should add a mandate regarding seatbelts sometime in the future for the bridge," the doctor shook his head as the ensign rubbed the side of his head. "otherwise,  I recommend you rest--"  
  
 "Is the morning shift up?" Connor cut the doctor off.

Nambue tilted his head looking at the young man in disbelief.  
  
"I am afraid not," Nambue said. "not until that headache of yours is gone. Relax yourself, doctor's orders. I'll put you back on duty tomorrow."  
  
 "All right, doctor," Connor said, then slid off the biobed. He looked down toward his hands that were wrapped in a white, warm fabric. "And my hands?"  
  
 "First thing you do tomorrow is come here and let my head nurse take care of that," Nambue said, then he whisked off to the next patient on the adjoining biobed alongside the ensign.

"I will," Connor said, then he slid himself off the biobed.  
  
The ensign sighed heading his way toward the exit doors.  
  
"Sir," came Nurse Brockett almost skating out of thin air. "I heard you have a headache." she handed him  a squishy, cold to the touch bag. "Hope I don't see you in our sick bay after tomorrow."  
  
"I don't plan to be," Connor said, placing the ice bag above his ear. The pain dimmed softening. "Thanks for the thought."

Brockett nodded.  
  
"See you later, ensign," Brockett walked past the ensign.  
  
Connor walked out of sick bay and proceeded to walk his way down the hall. Sure, he had another copy of his family in his quarters even if the bridge variation was turned to a crisp by the flames. He recalled his station bursting into flames with a singe of electricity coursing through his body and it felt like he was stung by a bee. He remembered being taken out of his station by what  felt like Commander Burnham. Her long, gentle dark hands wrapped around his shoulder. He made his way into a turbo lift darting into it right along side a yeoman holding a tray with a covered platter. The yeoman looked at his insignia then toward him in pity but also of sympathy.

The doors closed in front of the two.

"Bad ache, eh?" the yeoman asked.  
  
"Yes," Connor said.  
  
"And new?" the yeoman asked.  
  
"Yep," Connor repeated.  
  
"My first day was boring," the yeoman said.  
  
"How boring?" Connor asked.  
  
The yeoman waved her extra hand.  
  
"Mundane," the yeoman said. "uneventful. The Shenzhou does not get attacked often."  
  
"Much," Connor said.  
  
"The only ship that gets to be the target of such attacks is the Enterprise," the yeoman twirled her finger.  
  
"'You got that right," Connor said. "it's a death trap."  
  
"You are safe, ensign," the yeoman said, reassuringly. "the only thing that will kill you is boredom itself."  
  
"Boredom," Connor said, with a laugh. "I will take that anyday over space killing me."  
  
"The only thing space will do for you on the Shenzhou is drive you up the wall," the yeoman said. "what with the hitchhikers we happen to pick up. . ." she eyed at the man hesitating as the turbo lift moved through the ship. "and the missions star fleet sends us on, it is the beginning to the rest of your life if you don't get assigned to the Enterprise in the next ten years."

"And you?" Connor asked.  
  
"I go where I am assigned," the yeoman said. "I don't really care where I go," she batted her well kept, curly eyelashes back at the man. She had light blue eyeliner that made her light green eyes stand out. "I am here to serve others."  
  
"It would be a shame for you to be assigned there," Connor said.  
  
"It would," the yeoman said. "but that's life for a star fleet officer. We live with risk."  
  
Connor nodded.  
  
"Yeah," Connor said. "that's true. . ."

"You prepared for that life, chicken?" the yeoman asked.

Connor's face turned a heated red.

"Uh. . uh. . ." Connor was unable to reply properly fiddling with his free fingers.

"I heard from our residential  spider screamer," the yeoman said, looking toward the young man.

"I-i-i--i-i-i-i-i-i--i I am prepared for it," Connor verbally gained his footing. "I'm not here for the occasional owned Orions,  the mermaids, the nagas, the Cardassians, the Klingons, or the dragons."

"Hmm, interesting," the yeoman said. "then why did you join for?"

"I joined to explore," Connor said. A interested expression grew on the yeoman's face. "even if I have to face my fears along the way." the woman appeared to be amused.

"Hmph," the yeoman said. "you sound like one of those motivational posters. You'll sound like  a generic one by the time you are a commander."

"Why thank you," Connor said. The young man had a hopeful, beaming expression on his face with the icepack pressed alongside the side of his head. "hope I do by then."

The doors opened.  
  
"Cheerio!" The yeoman darted through the open doorway.  
  
The man went to the console and put in the deck that his assigned quarters were. He stood there for a good few minutes awaiting the turbo lift to come down to a stop listening to the music that was playing inside. It was a familiar song that lacked lyrics but it was a nice, momentary distraction.  The turbo lift stopped. The doors opened to reveal Tilly alongside Landry with their arms locked in their off duty uniforms which was golden and beige turtle necks. He stepped aside allowing the two chatting women to come inside. He walked right around them  into the corridor overhearing their laughter. They were probably headed to the recreation deck due to the nature of their conversation and they sounded really drunk. The young man sighed feeling the headache go at warp two. The cold ice  made his hand feel like an icicle that could break at any time.

He winced his eyes.

The pain had to be gone by tomorrow just as the doctor had informed him.

 _Always_ trust the professionals.

They tend to know what they are talking about when it comes to a patients health. The ensign walked his way past the other officers. He came to a stop when he saw a familiar figure come out of a quarters zipping up their uniform. It was Captain Georgiou. Her hair was messy with hair hands lining her hands. She raised her hair up fixing it then scurried past the ensign greeting him briefly with "Good morning, ensign" earning a baffled stare from the young man. He turned toward the hall to resume his pace. Just then Burnham bumped into him coming out of the quarters  knocking him to the ground with a thud.  He looked up toward the woman to see her uniform was stopped at the center of the chest apparently stuck. 

"My apologies, ensign," Burnham said, then promptly stood up. "I did not see you coming."

"No, my apologies, Commander," the ensign replied picking up his icebag. "I might as well have a dozen bruises tomorrow."  he added jokingly.

Her slanted brow raised.

"Are you part of a underground fighting ring?" Burnham asked.

"No, sir," Connor said. "I am joking." he stood up.

"Ah," Burnham said. "you bumped into others?"

"You can say that," Connor said.  
  
"It is recommend you do not tell what you have seen," Burnham said.  
  
Connor looked at her, puzzled.  
  
". . . Why?" Connor asked. "What's so bad about being command lesbians?"  
  
"If everyone knew, logically, someone would attempt to exploit that weakness,"  Burnham said.  
  
Connor stared at the hybrid.  
  
"You know  .  . . . that's almost word for word what Mr Saru said," Connor said.  
  
"He knows me well," Burnham said.  
  
"Too well," Connor said. "There is no fraternization rules unlike how it was for the 21st century well except for the ones regarding relationships with others on different ships."  
  
Burnham nodded.  
  
"There are some unspoken ones," Burnham said. "you will learn that, quickly."  
  
"I am sure I will," Connor said.  "and it would be _threatening_ if you were out in deep space like the Enterprise," he emphasized. "I don't mean to. . ." he waved his hand. "insult your concerns, but you are not exactly in a Klingon ship where being off guard can lead to death," she stared at him. "or. . um. . high.  . with. . love?" the man shrugged.  He sighed. "Okay, I won't tell.  .  . Do you ever plan on getting married with her?" They were committed together. Seven years serving together in space meant a lot for a command couple. It wasn't unusual to find married couples commanding starships much like the Klingons.  
  
She looked toward the direction the captain had gone then back toward Connor.  
  
"I intend to approach her with the subject the next time the ship is to visit Vulcan with my foster parents present," Burnham said.  
  
". . . Can I tell--" Connor started to ask.  
  
"Mr Saru has heard enough of our relationship," Burnham cut him off. "let him suffer."  
  
"He probably has more credits in it than my salary," Connor jokingly said. 

"I was not aware of the betting pool," Burnham said. Connor's face turned white. "I am going to bet in it as a anonymous source."

Connor laughed, light heartedly.

Color returned to the ensigns face as he relaxed around the  commander. 

"I will see you tomorrow morning, Commander!" Connor whistled striding past the woman feeling a tinge of resolve within him and a smile plastered on his youthful face. 

He might be in a slow burn but that did not mean it lacked humor in it.  
  
**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Since we know nothing about anyone at the moment, I took liberties to everything imaginable. And the lower ranks characters are probably going to be different when the show airs than how I wrote them. I roughly guessed the age of the USS Shenzhou and I could be incorrect, shoot me. *hands up in the air*


End file.
